Under the Dome
Stephen King
The scary thing about small towns is that what little power exists is both petty and absolute. I grew up in a small town, and it was a great place to be a kid — but no way would I want to be at the whim of whatever tinpot tyrant might arise in such a place to meet a crisis.
This is the bind in which Chester’s Mill finds itself when an impenetrable force field slams shut around the town, kicking off Stephen King’s rendering of “Lord of the Flies.” This is not a tale of eldritch abominations, but about a far more unnerving nightmare: the human savagery that pulses beneath the polite skin of civilization.
Those unfamiliar with King assume his otherworldly monsters are the big bads, but those acquainted with the master of horror know better: King’s scariest monsters are men and women loosed from all restraint, and “Under the Dome” might be the finest example of his work with this theme.
What I love about this story is that it also presents the flip side: men and women trapped in the deepening shadow of vile men, outnumbered and outgunned and afraid, but prepared to sacrifice everything for truth and goodness and decency rather than surrender their souls to barbarism.
I found this novel equal parts disquieting and inspiring, but I’m a sucker for heroes who would rather go down fighting than let evil run rampant. Heroism, after all, is stepping up even when you stand alone and no cavalry can save you, when the pink stars are falling and Halloween is coming.
Author: Stephen King